


Steal the Warm Wind, Tired Friend

by ThreeWhiskeyLunch



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Because I need those in between moments, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, M/M, Miraluka (Star Wars), The Outsider - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:41:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26111311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeWhiskeyLunch/pseuds/ThreeWhiskeyLunch
Summary: Beymyl: Miraluka, Jedi Counselor, Barsen'thor, Outsider, and Very Much In Love with Theron Shan.These are some of the in-between moments.
Relationships: Male Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor/Theron Shan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	1. Yavin 4

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlueTeaParty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueTeaParty/gifts).



> I'm back on my SWTOR bullshit again.
> 
> Title is from Black Hole Sun by Soundgarden.

He asks to see. See the jungle. The temple. The massassi. Complains about being stuck around a conference table all day with his mother and a sith. “Just one night. Get me out of here.” His low voice pleads ever so slightly.

So we go. Him behind me on the back of my speeder, holding tight as we ride over the trees, the temple in the distance. I take him to a cliff edge, with the ruins laid out below us. We sit on the edge, lean back against the speeder. The massassi move below us, dark red specks among the trees. I watch him watching, his eyes taking it all in. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful.

“I can feel it,” he says. “The Force.” He holds out his hand, turning it over. A burn scar marrs the back of his hand, a remembrance from when someone had tried to shoot the pistol from his grip. “Even back at camp I could. But here—” he looks up at me. “Is this what it’s like for you all the time?”

I shrug. “It’s stronger here, yes. But also more...beguiling. The dark side weaves deception and power here. The balance is precarious.”

He nods and lowers his hand, grasping mine. “I’m sorry if this is hard for you.”

“Nothing I haven’t experienced before. Just amplified.” I do my best to smile. To reassure. What I want is nothing compared to what’s at stake. I’ve never had the gift of foresight. Never wanted it. Until now. The galaxy feels on a tipping point. “You being here makes it easier.”

He smiles and the Force glows brightly around him. He twists our fingers together, holding tight. “You’d think I’d know better, falling for a Jedi.”

I reach out, touch his cheek with my fingertips. “Falling for?”

“Yeah, well. You know.”

I do. I can see it in him. In the aura around him. “Yes.” I cup his cheek. He leans forward and we kiss with the sounds of the forest around us, the heat of it in our bones. It all becomes one. His lips, my hand, the trees, the creatures that crawl in the soil beneath us. 

* * *

“Does it bother you,” he asks. “Not seeing color?”

Sweat glimmers on our bodies as we lay apart. Humidity and heat trapped in the small tent.

“There’s a shrimp that lives in the waters of Dantooine. No bigger than my thumb. It has receptors for colors we can’t even comprehend.” I turn to see him smile.

“Point taken.”

There is no silence in the jungle. But a quietness descends as the night deepens. Muted. Waiting. His breathing even, but he doesn’t sleep. Thoughts like drifts of smoke that waft over my senses.

“What is it?” I ask.

His answer is in the heavy sigh of trees shifting in the breeze. “How does this work? You and I?”

“How do you want it to work?”

“I don’t...I don’t know. You’ve got that ‘no attachment’ thing—”

“Which doesn’t mean I can’t love you.”

He sits up suddenly. Grins down at me.

I smile back.


	2. Odessan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw warning

“What do you mean, did I forget about you?” Bey scowls at me, insulted.

I rub my neck, embarrassed. “It’s been five years—”

“To you. Only weeks for me. Action-packed certainly, but not enough to—” He stops and looks at me. “Have you forgotten about _me_?”

“No!” I stop, noticing several of the people in the dock are now staring at us after my loud eruption. I step closer, lower my voice. “Can we talk about this later? Maybe somewhere a little more private?”

Bey looks down at me--gods I’d forgotten how tall he is--and nods. His face smooths over into his normal Jedi visage, open and friendly. Calm. For him not so much a mask as a way of being. “I need to see a couple people,” he says. “There’s a party later in the cantina. I’ll meet you there.”

I watch him go, shameless in my staring. I love to watch him go.

* * *

Lana and Koth watch Theron and Bey head to a private room at the cantina, shoulders nearly touching.

“Shall we wait for them?” Koth asks.

Lana shakes her head. “I think it’s best to continue this party without them.” She gives Koth a long look and his eyes widen in understanding.

“Oh.” He turns back to see Bey place a hand on Theron’s shoulder, guiding him into the room.

* * *

As soon as the door closes, I push Bey back against the wall and he crushes his lips to mine, hungry. His hands slide down to my ass, pulling me close and then up. I wrap my legs around him as he holds me, turning to press me back against the wall. It’s all I can do to breathe.

The pressure relents as he backs up, still holding me, kissing me. He falls back on the couch, brushing my jacket off and away to the floor. My hands slip under his vest, exploring the expanse of hard, defined muscle. A building wave of need grumbles up from my chest and he answers with his own growl, burying his face in my neck. “I’ve missed you,” I say. “So much.”

“Theron—” He breaks away, casting his eyes around the barren room. Only chairs, side tables, the couch we’re already occupying. “Wait.”

“What—”

He gently moves me aside and gets up. Using the comm to the cantina host, I hear him order a charcuterie and cheese plate, bread with macadam oil, and a bottle of chilled Alderaanian wine with two glasses. Finished, he turns to me and winks.

“You’re hungry?”

But he shakes his head, reaching down to pull me up. Music drifts in from the closed door, muted and full of bass. “Just wait.” He encloses me in his arms, swaying to the music. My body yearns for him, aches. Five years of thinking he’s dead, then knowing he’s frozen in time, then fearing for his life. It’s nothing compared to waiting with him here, now, warm and alive under my hands, feeling him explore my back. 

Soon enough the door chimes, a cart is pushed in, the door closed and locked. He leaves the food and drink where it is except the bowl of macadam oil, which he sets on a side table next to the couch.

Then he turns to me and begins to peel the layers away, his vest, his shirt, his belt with his lightsaber. He kicks off his boots, eyes locked with mine as I stand paralyzed, mesmerized. He palms himself through his trousers briefly before releasing the buttons one by one, sliding his hands down between the fabric and his skin, revealing everything as he lowers the last of his clothes to the floor.

I moan, seeing his length, thick and aroused. He dips his fingers in the oil and slicks himself with a grin.

“Oh, you bastard,” I breathe. 

His grin widens and he sits on the couch, spreading his arms across the back in open invitation.

My clothes are off somehow with shaking, fumbling fingers. Then I’m kneeling on either side of him and he grasps me, slicking my hardness, rubbing under and then in with a fingertip.

“Theron—”

“Yes.” I lift myself, slide down onto him. He’s in me. Five years of waiting and he’s in me. My brain scrambles to catch up, trying to memorize everything, but my body moves on its own, chasing the need. His heavy hands rest on my hips, urging me faster with pleas from his panting mouth. Too soon I feel the urge, one of his hands gripping me tightly, moving with my sudden, desperate jerking. Wetness spreads between us and then he pulls me tight, his hips thrusting up, filling me. He keens a tight, high cry, pressing up into me, hips still moving, but slower and slower until his arms gradually release me and he falls back against the couch, sliding down until I’m laying on him and he sighs.

“Next time,” he says. “I’ll make it last longer next time.”

“I wasn’t exactly taking the scenic tour,” I say with a laugh. 

His arms wrap around me, keeping me in place as his chest rises and falls with his breath. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says. “I don’t know if I could do this without you.”

“Oh, you could,” I reply. I peer up at him. “Just not with as much panache.”


	3. Odessan

A heavy sort of weight settles over the Alliance base. Lana feels it in her bones. In her blood. The awful agony of separation. The pain of betrayal. A heavy whirlwind of darkness and anger. All coming from someone who, for as long as she’s known him, has been a bright spot in an otherwise cloudy, usually stormy galaxy.

She sighs and looks around the command center. It’s not like she can blame him. Everyone in the base has been affected by Theron’s traitorous actions. It’s caused rifts in friendships already, only hours after their return to Odessan. They need someone to appease their fears and give them hope. Someone to lay the groundwork for what’s to come. They need their Commander.

Lana grits her teeth and grabs the datapad next to her. It’s barely fifty steps to the Commander’s room, but feels like a thousand with her body immersed in wet sand. The Force practically groans through her as she advances, pushing back against any intrusion. Her steps slow as she nears the closed door and she pauses only briefly before knocking, not that she expects an answering invitation to enter.

The other side of the door remains silent so she keys in the override command on the keypad. She steps through and closes the door quickly behind her, loathe for anyone happening by in the hall to see him like this.

He sits on the bed, head in hands, elbows propped on knees. His eye covering is off for the first time she’s ever seen him, palms pressed tightly to his eyes. He looks frozen in place, taught and coiled, on the verge of explosion. He does nothing to acknowledge her presence, even when she climbs the few steps to the bed and holds out the datapad.

“The security codes have all been reset. I made sure to close Theron’s backdoors into the grid, even the ones he never told me about. Here are your new codes.”

He only sniffs as a sort of half-answer, a sort of wet sigh. Lana sets the datapad aside and sits next to him. The bed is softer than she expects and she adjusts herself to not fall against his side, but ends up leaning on him anyway. She’s surprised by the warmth of him, almost overly hot. He’s always made his resistance to the dark side of the Force seem so easy, but now she understands how difficult it is for him. His skin burns as he fights against it.

Slowly, gently, she places her hand on his forearm, resting lightly in the only form of friendship she knows how to convey without words. His shoulders shake then. Once. Twice. He sobs heavily, his fists clenching in his nearly white hair.

“Commander. Barsen'thor.” She sighs and grips his arm. “Beymyl.”

“I refuse to believe there isn’t more to this,” he says. His voice is taught with stress and emotion, rough and grating. “Something he isn’t telling us. Me.”

Lana watches him as he breathes, his entire upper body rising and falling as he tries to calm himself. “You still love him,” she says. She should be surprised at the revelation. Had it been her, or any Sith she’s known, Theron would have been declared anathema with a hefty bounty on his head and a string of curses to follow him into the next life. But here this Jedi sits weeping, trying to understand, still hopeful, even if that hope is, to her way of thinking, quite miniscule. But that small hope glimmers from within him and she finds herself wanting it to be true. That Theron isn’t lost to them forever. That there is some reason for all of this.

“I’m a fool-”

“No, Commander,” she says.

“Don’t start lying to me now, of all times. You’ve never kissed my ass before. Do not do it now.”

Her lips twist as she grimaces. “Perhaps you are a fool. But if you are, then so am I. You chose to believe that something we don’t understand is driving Theron’s actions, however traitorous they may seem. And I chose to trust that you know what you’re doing—”

Beymyl huffs quietly at that, but she continues on.

“—is in the best interests of the _Alliance_.” She stands up and comes to parade rest in front of him, no longer the friend but someone to be commanded. If he doesn’t understand the import of what she’d just said, then she knows what must happen. But if he does—

The Commander looks up at her as he pulls his eye covering back over his face with a heavy sigh. “You’re right, of course. I can’t make this personal.” He stands and gestures her towards the door. “Twenty-some years of Jedi training down the drain,” he mutters.

“Hardly,” she says. “You still love him.”

“I still love him,” he says, following her through the door.


	4. Odessan

A while ago, when the base was still new, I had asked Lana to find a couple chairs to put out by my ship, at the edge of the cliff. It’s a good place to go at the end of the day, to watch the sun set and the stars come out overhead. To drink a beer and talk about everything and nothing with Theron or Lana or Koth. Koth, in fact, has built a firepit and found several more chairs of varying degrees of comfort. Someone has also added a table off to the side, and torches have been pounded into the ground. It has become a place of comfort and calm in an otherwise busy command base.

It’s where I find Felix, sitting silently, hands placed on his knees and staring off into the dense trees across the valley. I set one of the two bottles of ale on the armrest next to him and sit, opening my bottle and taking a long drink. I lean my head back with a sigh. To say the last few days have been a rollercoaster of emotion would be an incredible understatement.

I hear Felix fiddle with his ale, twisting off the top, but when I look he stares down at it as if surprised to find it in his hand. His thumb strokes through the condensation on the label. “I haven’t had a beer in five years,” he says softly.

“If I had known where you were—”

“I know.”

“I would have done anything to find you.”

“I know.” He looks up then at me, with his sad smile that holds no accusation.

“I’ve missed our friendship,” I say. “Ever since I woke up, we’ve been searching for any record of you.”

“I know,” he says again. He smiles and takes a long drink, exhaling with a long sigh. “I didn’t exactly make it easy for anyone. And that’s my fault. But I guess I didn’t think I’d get caught.” He shrugs and sets the bottle back on the armrest. “So.”

“So?”

“You and Theron.”

I grin. It’s hard not to. Having Theron back after all of. . . that. My heart feels lighter. “Yeah.”

Felix laughs, a hearty, joyful laugh that shakes his chest. He shakes his head. “Man, I remember when we first met him. You were so gone over him.” He draws out the words— _soooooo gooooooonnnnnne —_and I feel my cheeks tinge with a blush. “And not subtle about it.” He laughs again as I bury my head in my hands with an embarrassed groan.

“Was I really that bad?”

“So bad.”

“Oh gods—”

“It was cute. Zenith and I had a bet going on when you’d make your move.”

“What?” He peer over at him. Curiosity gets the better of me. “Who won?”

“I did.” He grins and grasps the bottle in his hands again, tipping it up at me in a toast. “One hundred credits. He was certain we’d get off Rishi and you still wouldn’t have done anything.” He shakes his finger at me. “But I had faith. I knew you’d get your—”

“Alright, alright.” I wave him off as he laughs. The warmth of the blush lingers on my face and I rub over it lightly, willing it away. I look out over the valley, the last of the daylight lingering on the highest trees, highlighted against the darkening evening sky. “We’re getting married.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, man! That’s the best news I’ve had in a long time. Congratulations. Really.”

I feel a dorky, uncontrollable smile plaster itself on my face. “Thanks. It’s been a long road. I still can’t believe. . . well. It just seems a little unreal, you know? Like something from a book.” I turn to look at Felix. “I’m going to need a witness. I was wondering if that’s something you’d be up for.”

“Me?”

“If you want.”

“Wild rankors couldn’t stop me! Hell, yes!”

“Good. That’s good.”

We sit back and watch the last of the light slowly ease from the sky as all the myriad of stars blanket us high above.


End file.
